


solitude

by CountessEricka



Category: Hotel Transylvania (Movies)
Genre: Ericka just wanting to be loved, F/M, I'm pretty sure she kissed many Sailors, Van Helsing's A+ Parenting, let her be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 17:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountessEricka/pseuds/CountessEricka
Summary: Trapped in a confined childhood, Ericka never experienced the feeling of being loved or loving another person. Yet, now she's discovered her interest in the Sailors aboard the Legacy, she cannot help herself to attempt finding love.





	solitude

Traveling nowhere.

The waves trapped within a cycle of movement, crashing into nothing but the ship's body. Nothing fascinating occurred. Only a few dolphins every now and then, clicking and swimming across the water. Free.

Resting her chin against her palm, Ericka sighed. Her eyes closed, exhausted from the lack of interest. She could've continued her training: aiming knives or silver bullets at Dracula's poster. Yet, what was the experience in that? Dracula, an agile vampire, wouldn't stand still when it was the time to face him. Ericka scoffed to herself, _I'm gonna die on this ship, and there are only two options: Dracula or great-grandfather._

"Thanks for the heads-up, buddy. I'll look into it."

Ericka's head jerked. She glanced behind her shoulder, spotting a man - presumably of middle-age - marching across the deck. He had a _fine_ jawline, which supported his smile as he heaved bags into one of the crates. The endearing outfit made her giggle, especially as it seemed _tight_ on his body. Especially how his muscles clenched whilst throwing objects into the crate.

Running her fingers through her hair, Ericka wandered towards the Sailor. She lingered behind him, anxious about what she could say, before smiling, "You work pretty hard."

He continued hoisting the bags into the pile, laughing at her compliment. "Ah, it's nothing much," he shrugged, finally turning around. Once he caught sight of Ericka, his posture weakened. Rubbing his arm, the Sailor shrugged with an eager beam, "Just need the strength of a sailor, which is what I am."

Ericka tilted her head. "Are you called up here often?"

"Yeah, I'm just assisting in keeping this ship running smoothly," he grinned. "What about you?"

"Oh, me?" her voice increased in pitch. Chuckling it off, Ericka shrugged. "I'm only studying."

The Sailor hooked his thumbs into his pockets, seemingly interested. "Studying what?"

"Marine Science and Engineering," Ericka smiled, noticing the number of times he glanced at her chest. "My, uh, father wants me to become a Captain."

A supportive smile spread across his face. "I'm sure you'll have no problem with that."

Something flared inside her stomach. Ericka bit her lip. "You think so?"

The tone in his voice softened. "Any guest will be pleased to have someone as gorgeous as you Captaining their ship."

Goddamnit, she couldn't hold back any longer.

Therefore, she traced her palm against his broad chest. Ericka pressed herself against him, gazing up at him with a smile. One hand slipped around his necktie as she purred, "Are you busy?"

The Sailor hesitated, but finally placed his hands on her hips. "Of course."

* * *

With the help of his powerful mechanic body, Van Helsing seemed able to retrieve the large fishing net within the sea. His quivering limbs spared him no benefit, but at least he tried. God, how old was he again? It seemed he lost count after focusing on Ericka's age.

How old was she again? Ah yes, eighteen. Retched eighteen. When kids could begin to call themselves adults when in reality they only just left education. No. Ericka wasn't an adult; she definitely would not use this excuse to escape.

Yet, it wasn't this point about the age that terrified him. It was her infatuation towards... _men._

Van Helsing gasped aloud, hoisting the net on the dock. He allowed his body to relax. His mind, however, sprinted at the sounds of Ericka's fascination.

_"Great-grandfather, when will I be allowed to have a boyfriend?"_

Never.

He simply ignored her question, rolling away - slowly - and slamming the door. There's her answer. How could she possibly even imagine herself in a relationship when he raised her to continue the Legacy?

What he witnessed would be the final straw.

His great-granddaughter, pinned against the dining hall building by some older man. And they were _kissing_. In reality, he could've only been ten years older, but Van Helsing saw it as an abomination. What did that disgusting creep want with Ericka? It seemed much clearer as he ran a hand down her thigh, wrapping it around his hip; the other digging into her wild mane of blonde hair.

" _Hey!_ " Van Helsing screeched, rolling over to the pair. He'd retrieved a spanner nearby, lobbing it towards the Sailor's head. "You dirtbag, get your filthy hands off my daughter!"

Ericka ripped her lips away from the Sailor, gasping, "What the-"

The Sailor held up his hands in surrender, stumbling, "I-I'm sorry, Sir-"

"Don't give me that fake innocence, you _dirty dirty pervert_!" he scowled, punching him in the stomach upon every word he emphasised. "Do you have any idea how old she is?" Van Helsing jabbed his finger on the Sailor's gut, demanding an answer. When he shook his head, Van Helsing pried, "Sixteen!"

All the colour drained from his face. The Sailor glanced between the two, before tripping and stumbling away.

" _What_? No, I'm not!" Ericka glared at her great-grandfather, before realising that the Sailor sprinted away. She reached out towards him, crying out, "Wait, he's _lying_!"

Van Helsing crossed his arms, smirking as he witnessed the Sailor run for his soul. However, the reaction he received from his great-granddaughter was less grateful than he expected.

She turned sharp on her heel, yelling, "What the _fuck_ are you doing?!"

"Don't you turn this around on _me,_ young lady," Van Helsing scolded, punching the sides of his body. "I'm not the one trying to get into old men's pants!"

Ericka gaped, shocked that her great-grandfather would describe her as doing such a thing. Well, he wasn't far from the truth. "He's– _ugh_ , you're unbelievable," she sighed, burying her face within her palms.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm unbelievable for saving your skin, and making you remember about why I raised you."

"I just don't understand why I can't make friends," she groaned, grasping her hair as if she'd tear the strands out.

Van Helsing almost choked. "That was _not_ making friends. If I found you ten minutes later, I would've had to _cleanse_ you!"

Ericka rolled her eyes, growling "Get fucked," before storming away.

Without feeling regretful, Van Helsing watched her turn a corner. He smirked. _Good, at least she has a temper. She'll be the perfect heir to defeat Dracula._


End file.
